Free Desire in Tartan: 2 (Highland Vampires) by Suz deMello

head so her lips met his. His kiss was pure rapture, more so than ever. His tongue caressed her lips, stopped by the barrier of the gag. But she used her lips to say yesyet again, yes to whatever he wanted while demanding more.
    He wriggled his lower body against her. “Are ye sure?”
    “Um-hmm.”
    His hand again reaching, spreading her open while his hips lifted, then dropped. Again that prod. She was curious and reached down to touch him.
    Soft over hard… “Oh…” she breathed. She was less frightened when she touched him this time. She already knew his cock was large, but she was no longer afraid. She’d experienced the wonders Dugald offered and she was free to do nothing but feel, just as he’d asked.
    “When you’re ready,” he told her. “Ye can choose.”
    She reached up and pulled the gag aside. “I choose you,” she said. “Please. Now. But I…I’m not sure what to do.”
    “All right, then. But ye must put this back on, ye ken?” He replaced the cloth over her mouth. “There will be some pain, mistress, I’ll no deceive ye. But it will be verra quick, and I promise ye, there will be joy. I promise.”
    She nodded.
    Scooting down her body, he spread her legs again and kissed her there. Right on her cunny. She’d never imagined such a thing, but ‘twas wonderful, so she pushed herself against his mouth. She held his head in place and rubbed herself against him the way she’d ground against his hand.
    The fantastic colored lights glowed again behind her closed lids, foretelling ecstasy. He stopped and she wanted to scream with frustration, but could only make little needy whimpering sounds against the gag.
    Again his big body blocked the light, and he came down on her, kissing her mouth while again cradling her head. His other hand slithered between then, down, down to touch her cunny and then to push his cock into her.
    The sensation was like his finger, but multiplied a thousandfold. Her sheath was stretched a little painfully. She gasped and squirmed, grabbing his hips to control him.
    He stopped.
    That he’d stopped when she needed him to meant everything. That he’d known what she needed meant even more.
    He whispered in her ear, “Remember what I said. Aye, there’ll be pain, but over quickly, ye ken?” He reached beneath her to grip her buttock and let his hips drop. He shoved fully into her, his hand holding her firmly for his invasion.
    She squealed, most of the cry blocked, but again he stopped, waited. Waited for her to become accustomed to the size of him inside her, dominating her senses, owning her.
    Her panting breaths evened and calmed. She loosened her grip on his side and he began to slide slowly in and out of her. She could feel everything, every little bit of his cock as he took her, receded, surged inside her again.
    The fullness of each thrust blended with his soft groans and the faraway sound of the waves. Despite the pain—yes, there had been pain, which had receded into soreness—this joining was bliss so complete and profound that she wept.
    He stilled again. “Lassie? Alice?” He took the cloth from around her mouth.
    She turned her face into his shoulder to muffle her sobs.
    “Lady, lady, mo dòchas, what is it? Was the pain too much for ye?”
    She shook her head, unable to speak.
    “Ah,” he said. “I understand.” Caressing her head, he turned her so he could kiss her mouth while he continued to move inside her, tiny little thrusts but enough to push her toward the rapture she knew she could reach…with his help.
    And she did, more quickly this time, as though her body had started to learn the path toward completion and to tread it with sure feet. He came with her—she sensed his growing need from the tension in his body and the speed with which he surged inside her, little hammering prods that strengthened until he was gripping her hard and slamming into her solidly.
    She clutched his shoulders and spread her knees wide, altogether open to him,